The Editter dropped by yesterday to loan me some books - none of which feature murdered children, babies from hell or frustrated artists who find themselves part of a living nightmare (as far as I can tell, anyway). She told me about someone she knows who is also pregnant, and is planning on working right up until about a week before her due date. I was horrified because, with four weeks to go, I'm already totally glad I'm now homebound. It's really uncomfortable at this stage.
After the physical exertions of yesterday's pregnancy aqua class, I was hoping to go out for a bit of a walk today. It's pretty cold today, so it meant wrapping up really well in polar fleece, windbreaker and beanie, but what actually made me return home a mere twenty minutes later was the sheer weight of my belly. It really felt like a swiss ball-sized bowling ball was in there somewhere, threatening to snap my pelvic ligaments. I'm reluctant to use the girdle now because, now that the baby's 'dropped', I don't want to squish the wee thing in tight elastic.
So it's just as well that I have plenty of reading material and DVDs, eh?